I Lied
by xxMusicalMime
Summary: "The saddest kind of love is when you had her... but you just let her go." Draco meets Hermione, who has had amnesia, and he does everything to redeem himself to her. What if everything isn't as it seems? Does true love really deserve a second chance?
1. It Can't Be Over

**_A/N:_**_**Hello! It's me, once again! :))** _

_As you know, (if you didn't read my "Stories I'm Sure I would Post Soon" on my Profile, good luck, chief.) this fanfic is still in progress (I'm just in the middle of Chapter 3) and this prologue is kind of short. :( But please forgive me, and I hope you enjoy :))_

_**And now, on with the story.**_

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><p><em>It was over.<em>

Those words floated across Hermione's mind like an uninvited fly, and she shook her head as she clutched her pillow close to her face so that it can staunch the steady flow of tears from her face. She was sitting on her bed inside her flat, and she used up all her energy not yet wasted on crying to look sideways at the clock.

11:40 P.M. September 18.

She bit her lip hard to stop from screaming. She was a riot internally, the pieces of her fragile heart sent to different parts of her chest and head, making it hard to breathe, and conjuring a major headache.

_This can't be true; _she chanted alongside the three annoying words buzzing around, _it's not true. It's just a nightmare. Yes, that's it – just a nightmare. And I'm going to wake up to Ginny's voice any minute now._

She waited for Ginny's shrill scream to get her back to blissful reality, to the times he was rightfully hers and her rightfully his; to the times she was the only one privileged to be embraced by those strong arms; to the times those eyes focused on her, and her alone even in the midst of a sea of sirens.

But no matter what strategy she used, she just couldn't fool herself.

Hermione buried her head under her pillow, muffling her sobs as they went out unwanted. No one had hurt her the way he did. No one ever made her feel this way. No one made what was left of her heart squeeze until it bled. No, no one had done all that to her before, for he was the only one that she ever truly loved, ever truly cared about.

It wasn't her fault it was over, she thought, though she could not say it was him to blame, either. Their first major fight had been produced from nowhere, and, from their proper positions across from each other on the table with their dinner on their plates in his flat, in minutes they were yelling incoherently at each other, eyes wild. The heated exchange exhausted both of them, though there was an exhilarating feeling fuelled by anger accompanied with the fact that their words actually stung the other.

In the end, however, they regretted their rash decision and the imperfections they hurled. They wanted it to be okay again, to apologize, though their pride got in the way of reconciliation, and the only option left was for them to leave.

There was a sudden knock on the door, but she ignored it. Probably just the janitor, she thought as she rolled over the other side. The knocks began to get more urgent, and Hermione still didn't open the door. In the end, whoever it was knocking stopped.

Ginny Apparated inside the middle of Hermione's bedroom with a faint _pop!_

"Hermione, why aren't you – oh, dear Merlin, what's wrong?" Her tone went from hostile to worry in a matter of seconds as Ginny digested the fact that Hermione was actually crying.

"Why knock, Ginny?" Hermione asked, stalling her answer. She wiped her tears away to no avail; she tried to smile at her, but it felt more like a wobbly tightrope. "You can Apparate, can't you?"

"I'm being formal, Hermione. How'd you like it if you were in the middle of something and I accidentally landed on your back?"

Hermione giggled, though her amusement was short-lived – she started coughing and retching from her own tears, and Ginny instinctively rubbed her back.

"Now, what the hell's going on with this flood?" she asked, worry coating her voice.

Hermione purposefully targeted her eyes at the framed picture of Draco beside her bed for a fleeting moment.

"Oh. _Oh." _Ginny was not stupid – once her best friend had not answered the door, she immediately remembered she was on a date with Malfoy. She was about to go home to Harry when she heard the faintest sound of bed springs creaking. Knowing that Hermione wouldn't accept doing _it _very early in their relationship, she guessed something had gone wrong. She did not want to conclude, however – most times, what she guessed turned to be the truth.

"Could you tell me what happened?" she asked gently. Hermione sighed, sat up, and began to narrate her life for the past months.

You do know how it started, don't you?" Hermione whispered.

Ginny nodded. "I remember. It started with a lie."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _NOTE!**

_For all the readers, **PLEASE READ ALL THE AUTHOR'S NOTES. (A/N). IT'S ESSENTIAL SO YOU WON'T GET LOST, BECAUSE I AM GOING TO TELL THIS STORY IN A FLASHBACK. I WILL TELL AT THE FIRST AUTHOR'S NOTE IF IT IS IN THE PRESENT TIME OR STILL IN THE PAST.**_

_Okay. Okay..._

**_REVIEW? :))_**


	2. Who Are You?

**_A/N: THIS IS WHERE THE FLASHBACK BEGINS._**

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><p>"There are a lot of people in London. Love blossoms in every corner. Sometimes, she's in front of you, but you don't give a damn. Sometimes, she passes in front of you, but you just have to pick that moment to tie your shoelaces. Sometimes, she's there in your viewpoint, only, a vehicle blocked her from your view. But there are some who are lucky to find their partners. Some are still looking. But some had long since given up. But the saddest of all is when you had her, and you just had to let her go. Though, there is a saying that said, 'True love deserves a second chance', and if you had that chance, would you take it or not?"<p>

Draco rested his back on the soft part of his swiveling chair, beaming and inspecting the awestruck interns holding their pads for note-taking. His subordinate, Blaise Zabini, clapped vigorously, standing by the doorway, until everyone whooped and cheered. Draco laughed.

"Now, that's what you need in this business. _Persistence_," he stressed, pointing at each and every one of the interns' faces, "is the bridge for success. The rare ray of sunshine in Azkaban. Or, for the realistic guys, just a word starting with p, and ending with e." This got the crowd laughing, and he stood up. "Well, my subordinate, Mr. Zabini, will be giving you instructions on your job. Thank you once again."

And with a congratulatory pat from Blaise, he headed outside the conference room and into his office. Once again, he was amazed at his working space – a spacious office, with a wide window in one wall behind his mahogany desk. The window was draped with the finest silk curtains made exquisitely by Madam Malkins, and it was one of a kind – silver, with green dragons intricately embroidered. His desk, mentioned previously as made from mahogany, was bearing folders upon folders of paper, though it was in neat stacks. There were no telephones or fax machines there – goodness knows, the youngest Malfoy had not yet been freed of his father's teaching of hatred for Muggles and all they produce. At the east wall there was a fireplace, at the moment crackling with warm fire that licked its brick housing ever so gently. It doubled as a Floo outlet, and he had been using it rather than Apparating. He never really did enjoy the sensation of travelling by Floo when he was a child.

There was a knock on the door, and Draco's secretary, Janice, walked in. He would've found her attractive with her curvy form, fair complexion, high-boned cheeks and blond hair pulled up into a bun, but he wasn't really into blondes. She reminded him of Astoria Greengrass, and he shuddered.

"Sir," Janice began, "Mr. Zabini wanted to talk to you. He's outside."

"Well, bring him in," he demanded, and Janice hurried outside and let Blaise in. He was shaking his head disapprovingly at his secretary.

"She's too suspicious," he complained.

"Well, if you were the subject, there's no wonder," Draco answered, grinning. "Now, what do you want to tell me?"

"We're going grocery shopping," Blaise replied. "The Muggle way."

"What?" Draco stood up. "Oh, no. No, I am _not _going to a Muggle grocery shop!"

"Do you really want me to use Imperio on you?" Blaise muttered, fingering his wand lovingly.

Draco sighed. "All right… But for whom are the groceries?"

"They're for my mom. Merlin only knows why she made me do the groceries. And I _really _need your help."

Draco winced. He couldn't resist Blaise's pleading, and that overshadowed his reluctance. "All right… When?"

"Right now!" Blaise exclaimed, took Draco's wrist, and Apparated outside DLM Industries with its owner and president without a note of leaving.

* * *

><p>The grocery shop was jam packed with Muggles, of course.<p>

Draco, who had changed into jeans, an olive-green T-shirt, and green sneakers, was walking between the aisles in a bored manner. Blaise, in a black short-sleeved hoodie, black denim pants and sneakers, was pushing the cart behind him. The cart was only half-full, and they had spent two hours roaming the whole of the grocery shop, bantering about whether his mom liked ground pork better than ground beef.

"Come _on, _Blaise," Draco whined as they arrived at the cold cuts section for the third time this morning. The people in charge of helping the Muggles pick meat looked at them curiously – they'd know that platinum-blond hair anywhere. "Can't we just pay that with Muggle money and be done with it?"

"Put a sock in it, Draco," Blaise answered, looking at the meat speculatively. He snuck a glance at the girls at her side, grinned, and the girls tittered like mad. Draco sighed, crossed his arms, and tapped his foot impatiently.

"We didn't even notify Janice that we were Apparating from work! Man, those goons would be searching the building for me with dogs…"

Blaise, who was nodding but not really listening, took a sneaking look at the silent girl beside him. She was wearing a floral halter dress and a cropped blazer, and it highlighted her curvy figure immensely. Her wavy hair flowed down her back naturally, and Draco couldn't help but be awestruck at what he was seeing.

"Uhm… excuse me…" Draco asked. The girl, midway on getting a plastic of chicken legs, stiffened. "May I ask what your name is?"

She faced him with big brown eyes, and it was his turn to stiffen. He distinctly heard Blaise gasp beside him. Her eyes were so innocent, so void of anger that should've been there. And yet, she was smiling at him as though they had not started with the wrong foot.

"Hermione?" he asked incredulously. Draco had a change of heart after the war, but that did not mean the others made it easier for him to change.

"Oh, hello," she answered, showing him a very flashy smile. "I'm surprised you know my name."

"Of course I know your name," he replied quickly, guilt roiling inside his stomach. All of their time at Hogwarts Draco had called her either by her surname or by the word purebloods used instead of Muggleborn. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Oh… right…" She seemed uncomfortable, and she fidgeted. "Sorry… erm… may I ask what your name is?"


	3. Seemingly Nice

The two boys stiffened. Why would she forget their names? It wasn't as though she _wanted _to keep the memory of them, but all the same, Hermione Granger wasn't the type to forget before she forgives.

"Y-you don't know my name?" Draco inquired, disappointment hinting. He felt himself deflate a bit.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Hermione fluttered. "I know you, yes! I recognize your hair and voice anywhere. Forgive me, are you a friend of mine? See, I have acquired amnesia due to trauma at my old school. My friend said I got the trauma from the never-ending bullying of one of the Slyther – I mean, the 'snakes', as we called them."

At this, Draco and Blaise's eyes widened in amazement and meaning. Draco's heart was bursting with guilt. He had caused this? He had made Hermione Granger acquire amnesia? The earth seemed to tilt a bit, and he put a hand on his temple to steady himself. Blaise had a hand on his shoulder, and Hermione's voice floated to him, scared and worried.

"Oh my goodness! Are you okay? I'm going to get some help…"

Hermione's footsteps pattered away, and the world righted itself. Blaise was asking him if he was all right, and he nodded. Remorse was still gripping his heart like a metal fist, and he was having trouble breathing.

"Here!" Hermione was back, and he had brought a crowd. "Here's the man that needs helping!"

The three people she brought looked at him disdainfully. "Hermione, we don't need to help this man," Harry Potter said coldly. He turned around before continuing. "He can get back by himself."

"What?" Hermione's face showed confusion. "But why not, Harry?"

"Hermione, don't you remember?" Ron Weasley exploded, pointing an accusing finger at Draco. "He was the one responsible for everything that happened at Hog – at our school!"

"I don't remember, Ron," she sniffed. She eyed him meaningfully, "I have _amnesia, _remember?"

Ginny Weasley nudged her brother in the ribs. "Oh… right…" Ron muttered, going a deep red.

"Now let's help him!" Hermione said, clapping her hands joyfully.

"No." Once again, it was Harry who had refused.

"But why, Harry?" Hermione demanded. "You said you saved everyone at our school, but you won't save this nice man?"

"That man is not worth saving." Those words hit Draco like a knife, and he winced. "And he's not nice. Now come on, Mrs. Weasley's expecting the groceries for Teddy's birthday party."

Ginny hauled Hermione away by the hand. Draco and Blaise watched them go away silently. Hermione looked back, waved, and said, "Good bye, seemingly nice man."

And with that they rounded the corner and went out of sight.

* * *

><p>At the counter, Hermione Granger was glaring at Ron, arms crossed. "I told you to pretend," she began in an accusing tone.<p>

"You know I'm not good at pretending!" Ron whispered fervently as he handed product after product to Harry, who was paying. They decided to play safe and let him do the work with Muggle money. "Much more on short notice!"

"What I don't get," Harry interjected. He had dropped the cold tone he used at Malfoy back there and was his warm self again, "is why you pretended to have amnesia when you could've slapped him and be done with it."

At this, Hermione had gone red. "I… I wasn't thinking straight," she muttered. "And I don't want to make a scene. I'm a good girl." She patted her head good-naturedly, but stopped, blushing. "Okay, maybe not good because I lied to him, but seriously, my mouth just blurted it out! And even though I _want _to let him know that it was a lie (mind you, I don't), I won't go back there. Merlin knows he's going to laugh his face off at 'Mudblood Granger'."

"Okay," Ginny said absently, taking the change from the Muggle cashier. "Hey, Harry, I'm just going to get a quick present for Teddy." And with that she skipped away, fiery hair bouncing.

"You would do it, right?" Ron and Harry turned around to see Hermione pleading. "You'd pretend that I have amnesia, too?"

"Of course," Harry said, smiling. "Merlin knows Draco needs to feel guilt even if it's only one time."

"Leave me out of it until necessary," Ron interrupted. "I'm going to get a few tips in pretending from Ginny."

And the Golden Trio laughed, not noticing the cashier's strange look she gave them.

* * *

><p>Draco had returned to the office, and even the steaming cup of cocoa that always calmed him down didn't make things any easier.<p>

He pounded his head and cried out loud. He could barely see through the tinted glass that separated his office from his secretary's that Janice jumped on her seat.

He was the cause of all this. It was he who had done this to her. It was all fun and games when they were young, but if ever he had known what might happen in the future, it would've surely checked his eagerness in humiliating her in front of everybody.

He instantly felt bad about all he had said to her, all those insults he hurled as she walked by. He remembered her slapping him in third year, and he couldn't agree more that he had deserved that. Hate never really inhabited him in the case of Hermione Granger – yes, he could feel it like happiness, but it was less corporeal, like the absence of something.

"Oi! Draco! What the hell's the ruckus?" Blaise Zabini shouted, but when he saw Draco, his hair a mess, his tie loosened, his office a wreck, and his mate's eyes red and puffy, he backed away. "What the hell's wrong?"

"GUILT!" he roared, pounding his desk. "I can't stand it! I can't stand what I've done to Granger!"

"Oh… that." Blaise leaned on the door, his arms crossed. His face was a mask of dead seriousness, in Draco's opinion. "Then make it up to her."

Draco's heart seemed to stop. "What?"

"Make it up to her! You know – _redeem _yourself, so you won't feel guilt anymore!" Blaise continued with a knowing smirk, "maybe _this _time you'll make her fall in love with you…"

At that, Draco seemed to choke. Sure, Blaise was the only one who knew she had liked Hermione ever since he had laid eyes on her on their first train ride to Hogwarts. He had reduced it, however, to a simple crush from what it really was – a blazing fire in his heart. He did not belittle his emotion for her for no reason – he had saw Hermione kiss Ron with so much passion in the middle of the War, and it seemed as though the world ended, and his heart inexplicably lay broken inside his ribcage.

"Y-you're right!" Draco fixed his hair, hugged Blaise, and shooed him from his office. He then worked all afternoon asking for news of the Golden Trio and their current whereabouts. At five in the afternoon, four hours after he had begun, he finished the arduous task triumphantly, yelling like a madman inside his office and swiveling around.

_I'll make you see, Hermione, _he thought as he read the address where Hermione was currently staying. _I'm going to make you see I'm not 'just seemingly nice'. I'm going to prove to you and your friends that I've changed. You just wait – I'm going to get your memory back._


	4. A Face Like Crookshanks

_Knock, knock, knock._

"Ginny!" Hermione called. "Could you answer that, please? I'm in the middle of something…"

She sighed as she glanced at Ginny run to the door. Then she looked back at the dizzying names and numbers she had to analyze for Harry. She had volunteered to help the Aurors Department with her brains, and this was just the chance. A report of all the facts of the last War had been printed out to locate still-missing Death Eaters. The only problem was that the author – a very ambitious young man by the name of Kronos Lancer – had been very prolix about elaborating, and fatigue was not helping her to understand the facts better.

She put her head down on her arms to rest for a moment. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, thinking of white roses. She counted the spells Harry found on Snape's old Potions book, and, incredibly, it made her feel calm a bit.

Hermione jumped, however, when there was a hand that touched her shoulder.

"AAAH!" she screamed, flailing her arms madly like a windmill. In front of her was Draco, looking astonished, one hand half-way through going back to his side, the other holding a bouquet of her favorite white roses.

"You all right?" he asked, concern lining his face. Before she could respond, however, she remembered her act, and she had a change of plans.

"Haven't I met you before?" Hermione answered him ecstatically. "Oh, yes! You're the man from the grocery shop!"

"Err… yes, I am." Draco fidgeted. "Oh, my name's Draco, by the way. Draco Malfoy."

"Hermione Granger," she said, shaking his expecting hand. "I say, how'd you find me?"

There was a meaningful cough behind them, and they turned around to see Ginny, who was pointing at her wristwatch. "Uhm… Hermione? We need to get back to the Ministry – "

"SHHHH!" Hermione stood up and hissed. She trudged bossily at Ginny and whispered, "He's a Muggle, remember?"

"I'm not a Muggle," Draco interrupted. Hermione noticed that her whispering was no good. "I'm a wizard, like you two are witches."

Hermione tried to look offended. "Excuse me! I am not a witch!"

"Yes, you are. I am a wizard."

"Prove it."

Draco fished out his wand and gave it to her. "I bought that from Ollivander's before I went to Hogwarts on our first year. You were in my batch, only I was in Slytherin, and you, Gryffindor."

"You…" Hermione arranged her face into a mask of fury. "You're a Slytherin?"

"Yes." Draco, who had noticed her expression, hastily added, "But I'm not the one who did this to you. H-honest!"

Ginny scoffed beside Hermione, folding her arms across her chest. Hermione had her mind reeling. It was already very late in the afternoon, and Harry needed this report before sundown so he could dispatch Aurors to catch those destined behind bars.

"Okay, how about a question?" Hermione said sweetly. "Who were the Professors that died in our sixth and seventh year?"

"That's easy," Draco answered. "Dumbledore and Snape."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I'd love to prove you wrong, but I really have to go to Harry's office." And with that she hurried off to Apparate.

"No, no! Wait!" Draco screamed, and grabbed her wrist just in time to accompany her to the Ministry.

* * *

><p>Harry Potter, the Head of the Auror Headquarters in the Ministry of Magic, was dead tired already. He had received something close to a letter of threat from one of the Death Eaters that were still on the loose, saying that they had a plan to avenge their fallen master and the Ministry was falling into their hands.<p>

Without Hermione's answers, however, they could not prove if the supposed plan was real or a hoax made to scare the wits out of the new Minister. Ever since Harry (finally) finished all his paperwork on his desk, he had been pacing inside his office back and forth, waiting for her a bit impatiently. As he walked, he memorized the certain positions of all the things in his office lest someone breaks in and searches for some important information.

On the north wall there was a huge window, and in streamed the last rays of the dying sun, as he liked to call it, elongating the shadows of his sturdy desk made of oak, which was laden with paper overflowing from the in and out slots. His actual workplace was in the east wall, where he could defend himself when someone enters the office either by the door or by the window.

On the wall facing his desk were wanted posters of different people – those who had gotten away from the Ministry's grasp. At the bottom of their wanted picture were the crime they committed and the prize for anyone who would find them.

It wasn't pretty to look at when you snap your head up every five minutes, Harry added, but it was good when it comes to fuelling his energy on working hard to eradicate evil.

Okay, maybe the last part was a _teensy _bit overdramatic, but still.

The door opened, and very young Kronos appeared. "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger is here accompanied by a tall male – pale, pointed chin, platinum-blond hair, holding a bouquet of white roses that he seems to be pushing to Miss Granger."

Harry internally grinned. Kronos had been a big help, and sometimes he brightened up his day by saying all of the characteristics of unknown or first-time visitors. Harry wondered if the young Auror had been a CSI fan when he was young, or was he a fan still.

He cleared his throat and said, "Bring Hermione in. Tell the man with her to wait outside – I will talk to him after I discuss things with Hermione."

"Will do, sir." And with that the young and eager face disappeared, and Hermione stomped inside, carrying the folders and looking as disgruntled as her cat, Crookshanks.

"What's the matter?" Harry said shakily, trying hard not to laugh. "You look like Crookshanks, only your face isn't squashed."

"Could you please stop the insults to my cat?" Hermione snapped, and Harry nodded, going silent. She sighed. "It's Malfoy. Merlin knows _how _he got my address, but I tell you, he's persistent – like a dog chasing down someone who's got a bone in her purse."

"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad."

"I tried to shake him off but he grabbed my wrist when I Apparated. When I talked to Kronos he was eyeing the kid meaningfully – Harry, Kronos nearly wet himself! He couldn't even answer me straight!"

"Okay, okay. Calm down. How about taking your mind off Malfoy a moment and let me see what you got." Harry let her sit down opposite him on the desk, and she began to discuss about the whereabouts of anyone still wanted.

"Okay… so this Thorfinn Rowle, remember him? He's hiding here." Hermione pointed at a place on the map Harry had provided. "And… Jugson. Jugson's staying here. He Imperio'd a Muggle family with a small boy that can do magic, so the Ministry will think that it was only underage and accidental magic. Antonin Dolohov has gone out of the country, but I doubt he's gone overseas – sources tell me he was seriously wounded after his duel with Flitwick. He hasn't been seen after that – probably escaped, the coward…"

And so it went on, with Hermione pointing at random places surely, and Harry writing them down on a notepad eagerly. After about half an hour they finished, and Harry sighed, contented.

"Now that that's finished," Hermione began, stretching her arms skyward. "Want to go to the Leaky Cauldron with me? We can invite Ron and Ginny, if you like."

"You go on." Harry stood up, smiling. "I'm going to have a chat with Malfoy."

"Oh. Him." Hermione's expression was grim. "I can't believe it – he's a git, annoying in so many levels."

"Don't worry. I'll catch up in an hour or so. Just going to discuss to Malfoy about certain pinpoints in your privacy."

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said, relieved, and hugged him in a little-sister fashion. "Seven, all right?"

"Yeah, okay." And with one last smile Hermione Apparated away with a faint _pop!_

* * *

><p>"Kronos! You still there?" Harry whispered when he opened the door and peeked outside.<p>

"Yes, sir! I'm planning to stay until eleven, Mr. Harry Potter, sir!" Kronos replied eagerly, straightening his tie and fixing his glasses.

"Have you seen where that man accompanying Hermione went?"

"Oh, yes, sir! Err… He fell asleep waiting for you." Kronos pointed to the leather arm chairs right of the door where visitors could wait, and Harry saw Draco Malfoy snoozing vulnerably. He seemed at peace, though – his eyes were lightly shut, his forehead showed no sign of stress, and his mouth had a ghost of a smile. Harry remembered Fred Weasley and his last laugh, and shuddered.

The bouquet of white roses lay on his lap, and when the young female Aurors passed him, they blushed and giggled. Harry internally rolled his eyes – those women would do anything for Malfoy to give them that bouquet.

"S-Should I wake him, sir?" Kronos whispered nervously.

"No, no. I'll do it." Harry shook Malfoy's shoulder lightly, and when the sleeping form didn't so much as move, he rattled Malfoy's head, making him jump to a start.

"Merlin's beard, Potter, what did I do?" Draco Malfoy shouted, still dizzy from all the head-shaking. "I was just sleeping!"

"Well, I was shaking your shoulder and nothing happened," Harry explained in a flat tone. Beside him, Kronos had become silent. "You might've been dead, for all I know."

"Well, I'm not." Draco stood up and straightened his flannel shirt from wrinkles. "Is Hermione still here? Ah, damn! I forgot to give her the flowers!"

"Actually," Harry said softly. "I wanted to talk to you about just that."

"What, you want to talk about flowers?"

"No!" Harry's patience was about to be used up. "I'm talking about Hermione!"

"O-oh." At this, the youngest Malfoy had gone beet red. "W-what about her?"

Knowing Kronos was going to eavesdrop, Harry said, "Why don't we go inside?" He opened the door for Malfoy to enter, and he said, "Oh, yeah – and Kronos, could you get us a cup of coffee each?"

"Yes, sir!" And the eager lad went off. Harry shook his head. Sometimes that kid reminded him of Percy Weasley – only less pompous and funnier.

He closed the door with a snap and whirled around, expecting Malfoy's wand to pierce his throat, or for him to fly backward and for his back to hit the wall. He was ready for anything hostile to happen to him at any minute, and his hand had been inching towards his wand which was in his pocket. He might've been paranoid, but, for Merlin's sake, this was Draco Malfoy, the one tasked to kill Albus Dumbledore.

What he saw, however, was never what he expected.

"Uhm… aren't you supposed to be doing something?" Harry asked Draco, who was busy staring at the posters open-mouthed. He could see him shiver, probably at the memory of the idiots inhabiting his home.

"Oh, no. I took a day off from work." Draco walked to the chair in front of Harry's desk and sat down. So far he had no suspicious motions that Harry saw. "You wanted to talk about Hermione?"

"Yes." Harry slowly sat down, not taking his eyes away from Draco's.

"So, what about her?"

"You do know you're invading her privacy?" Harry began, drumming his fingers on the desk. Draco had become silent. "She entered here looking like her cat, Crookshanks – and believe me, that equals to totally annoyed. Why're you even following her? When we were at Hogwarts, you don't give a damn. Why the change?"

"I want to make it up to her." It was the answer that Harry least expected. "Potter, I know you dislike me barging in, but, to be honest, I never really stomach guilt properly. When I met Hermione at the grocery shop – well, it gnawed me until I decided I should at least get her memory back – "

Harry pounded his desk in frustration. "But you were the one who made her into this in the first place!"

"I know. And that's why I'd like to do as much as I can to redeem myself. Maybe I could eradicate those memories of the Golden Trio and me fighting and institute better memories."

"It won't change what happened in the past, Malfoy," Harry muttered darkly.

"I know," Draco repeated with a sigh. "But I can at least try, can't I?" Before Harry could answer, however, Draco stood up, taking the bouquet with him. "Well, I'd better be going. I'm going to have dinner with the Zabinis." He headed outside, but when he reached the door, he stopped. "Are you meeting Hermione tonight?"

"Yes…" Harry said slowly, wondering where this was going. All of a sudden the bouquet was flying towards him, and with his Seeker skills he caught it safely. "What the…?"

"Give that to her. For me. Please." And with that Draco left, bumping into a very bewildered Kronos holding two steaming mugs of coffee, along the way.


	5. Too Small of A World

**A/N: STILL IN FLASHBACK MODE. JUST WANNA MAKE SURE YOU KNOW I'M NOT GOING ON A VACATION THIS WEEK DUE TO MY CHICKENPOX'S UNCANNY TIMING. SO I EXPRESS MY APOLOGIES TO THOSE I REPLIED VIA MESSAGE THAT I WILL BE GONE. **

**Okay, let's get back. **

* * *

><p>Hermione shook her head again as she edited the pictures that need to be printed that day. Ginny was taking pictures of kids at the other room, and even though the squeals were quite deafening, she couldn't understand what she was doing until she colored the lush lips of Anna Dexter purple.<p>

"AH, SHIT." Hermione quickly clicked the Undo button and restarted again on the Muggle computer. It was their studio, and it was situated just across the Leaky Cauldron, only it was in Muggle London.

"Okay, kids, that's a wrap!" Ginny's voice floated to her, and all the kids shouted delightfully. Hermione noticed the sigh of relief the teacher accompanying the kids gave.

"Miss?" she asked Hermione, and her head snapped up. "When can we get the pictures?"

"Err… this Friday, ma'am," she replied, flashing her teeth. She could see the teacher stare at her perfectly white teeth enviously, and she internally snorted.

Once the kindergarten class went out the door, the two witches slumped in their seats. Ginny fished out her wand and made the "OPEN!" sign flip over to "Lunch Break". Hermione saved the changes on Photoshop and stretched her arms skyward. It had been only four hours of work, but when her mind drifted off elsewhere she couldn't think straight.

"OI! Earth to Hermione? Do you read?" Ginny was waving her hand in front of her face, and she snapped out of her thoughts.

"Sorry, Gin, what were you saying?" Hermione said hastily, taking her share of the Chinese takeout Ginny had bought a half hour ago.

Ginny sighed. "I was _saying _that you looked a little off since last night. Actually – I noticed you changed right after Harry whispered something in your ear when we were at the Leaky." The redhead leaned closer, her eyes boring holes into hers. "What did he say?"

"Uhm… it's nothing." Hermione blushed. Noticing that Ginny must've been jealous, she added, "It was about Malfoy. They had a little talk before he went to the Leaky Cauldron last night, and, well… he said some… admirable things…"

"So… you admire Malfoy now?"

No, of course not!" She was seriously regretting telling anyone about anything. People are so straightforward, these days. "It just made me think…"

"Well then, I guess Malfoy made some Romeo-like sentiments to make you think _that _hard. You haven't even touched your food!" Indeed, Ginny was right. She hadn't even swallowed a forkful. She pushed the thought of Malfoy away and started eating properly.

They had spent their lunch hour fruitfully – fifteen minutes of eating, and the rest working on editing. By one o'clock they had nothing else to do unless customers would come. So they had just sit back and relaxed – the day was particularly sunny and a bit warm, but the studio was air-conditioned, plus a nifty semi-freezing charm Hermione cast and they would've cooled down the desert.

At two o'clock, the two witches had gone from bored to completely restless. It was a good thing that customers had started to come in.

_Ring, ring!_

_Finally, _Hermione thought as she heard the telltale ringing of the Muggle bell by the door. Since Ginny was the one who took the photos the last time, Hermione was the one next. She quickly wiped the lens of the camera and checked the lighting. Up front where Ginny was accommodating, they fell silent. The redhead ran to her and said, "Hermione, are you okay with this?"

"Why? What is it?" Hermione asked, concerned. As if for an answer, the two people they least expected came behind her, grinning widely.

"Well, if it isn't Hermione!" Blaise Zabini boomed, his teeth blinding. He nudged Draco, who was beside him and blushing. "Small world, eh?"

_Too small of a world, _Hermione thought grimly. "Oh! Draco Malfoy, yes? And who's your friend? I recall he was with you at the grocery shop!"

"I'm Blaise," the other Slytherin introduced. Draco didn't seem capable of talking yet – the set of his shoulders and the hands deep in pockets depicted him noticing how awkward this all is. "I'm Draco's best mate, like Ron is Harry's. I'm a wizard, too – "

"SHH!" Ginny, Hermione and Draco hissed as another customer – Muggle this time – went in, with her family.

"Could you be a bit careful?" Hermione suggested. "This _is _a Muggle studio, after all…"

"And that reminds me," Ginny piped. "What _are _you doing in a Muggle studio?"

"We're here to have our photos taken! You know, so we can be reminded of our ever-lasting friendship?" Blaise said while putting his arm around Draco's shoulders.

"Okay, then. This way." Hermione led them to the other room where they take photos. She distinctly heard Blaise wow, and she sat them down in front of the camera. She fixed the lighting so that the two boys wouldn't squint, and took their pictures.

Blaise insisted on more shots, and he and a very embarrassed and reluctant Draco wore party hats – the classic ones, with the pointy tip and ungodly chin-strap. After they had posed for fifteen minutes, Blaise pulled Hermione between them and called Ginny to take a picture of the three. Afterwards, Blaise left Hermione and Draco - all beet-red and looking pointedly in different directions - and took a picture. And then a picture of Blaise and Ginny, Draco and Ginny, and Hermione and Blaise.

"Wow! These pictures are great!" Blaise exclaimed outside while Ginny took snapshot after snapshot of the Muggle family. He was shuffling the photos – which were printed hurriedly – that the picture of Hermione and Draco alone, blushing, had dropped. Hermione went to pick it up at the same time Draco swooped down. Their fingers brushed, and as though someone had turned on a switch, their faces instantly became red.

Hermione could practically hear her heart drumming against her ribcage. His hand was soft in hers…

Say what?

Why was she thinking those things?

Could she be having a crush on Draco Malfoy?

Hermione shivered at the thought, but not in disgust – it just felt… unfamiliar. She never thought that she would fall for this particular Slytherin, much less admit it so early. She shook her head, and together with Draco handed the photo to Blaise, one hand each.

"Seriously, could you _stop _with all the blushing?" Blaise suggested in an exasperated tone. This made the two blush even more. "I'm starting to feel like my friends are all tomatoes…"

* * *

><p>After that very eventful encounter, Blaise and Draco were found sitting across each other by the window in the Leaky Cauldron. Blaise only ordered some food, and Draco had demanded glass after glass of firewhiskey.<p>

"You really have to control your drinking, mate," Blaise intoned as Draco downed his seventh glass in one. He, Blaise, could already notice that Draco's eyes were bloodshot, and his speech was going slurry. "Otherwise, 'Mione won't have any of you."

"I'm _celebrating – hiccup – _blaze," Draco seemed to say. He swayed in his seat before continuing. "I mean… di-n't you shee Her…mione's… reaction? She – _hiccup –_blushed! I'm starting to think… she's g-got the hots… for y-yours truly…"

"Yes, yes, I noticed," Blaise replied airily. "But, seriously, stop drinking!" When Draco didn't reply and only thanked Tom the barman for another firewhiskey, Blaise swiped the glass and drank the contents himself. "There. Now let's go, or tomorrow you'll be all whining about your hang over."

"I do not… have sleep-overs…" the other muttered before he fell unconscious there and then.

_Dammit, _Blaise thought while throwing an arm around his best mate before Apparating back to Draco's flat. He laid him on his bed, closed the door, and crashed into the sofa, staring up at the ceiling with both hands cushioning his head.

_Vrrr. Vrrr._

Blaise almost jumped out of his skin when he found his Muggle cell phone vibrating against his leg. Of course he had a cell phone; it was just that no one actually expected him to have one. He flipped it open and read Ginny's hurried text message.

_You were the one who set today up, right?_

He smiled and quickly replied.

_Yes, of course, with a little prodding from Draco. He badly needs to redeem himself, and there's a secret plan we're taking action of._

After a few minutes his phone buzzed again.

_I knew it. Great job, though. Mione's face seemed to be painted red. Right now she's just oh-so-love struck. She keeps looking out the window and sighing like she's going to die when she doesn't see your mate soon. I never knew Mione and Malfoy could be so compatible. And by the way, what secret plan? If it involves making Mione and Draco fall in love, count me in._

Blaise felt an impish grin grow on his face, and then he started texting like mad. The conversation took almost four hours, given with the crappy signal and, at one time, Blaise's phone vibrated and died, for he had forgotten to charge.

"This is going to be _so _good," he muttered, looking at Ginny's last text message, which was lengthy with all her suggestions, before falling asleep, his cell phone lying across his chest.

* * *

><p><em>He could hear her sobbing somewhere, and he looked left and right to where she was. He caught sight of her on the ground, hands wiping away the tears that continued to flow endlessly. He knelt down to ask her what was wrong, and she cringed away.<em>

"_Hermione?" he asked, a bit of self-loathing in his voice. "Did I do something?"_

_To a part of his relief, Hermione shook her head. "I'm… s-sorry…"_

"_What? Why are you apologizing?"_

"_Draco… Draco…"_

"Draco… Draco…"

"Hermione…?" he muttered groggily, eyes still half-shut.

"No, you idiot, it's Blaise. Seriously, I've got to get a haircut if you had me mistaken for a girl." At this statement his eyes flew open and he sat up quickly, just to be stopped by a killer headache. With a cry of pain he carefully lay back down and stared at Blaise, who was smirking.

"And you said you didn't get hangovers…" Blaise muttered, shaking his head. He handed him some Muggle pills and a glass of water. "Now drink this up and let's get to work."

"Yes, mother," Draco replied, rolling his eyes. He did as Blaise instructed, and he reminded, "I notified Janice I'll have the week off. What work?"

"Oh, you'll see. It's only Wednesday, right?" Draco nodded. "Well, we're going camping with Hermione and Ginny. Two huts – one for the girls, one for us. Bonfire every night. It overlooks a great lake – still crystal clear, lots of fish, Myrtle– and Giant Squid–void. Now, pack up or you're going to miss us Apparating."

"Whoa, whoa. Wait. You're telling me to pack up, and that means you have a plan." Draco glared at Blaise. "You planned this, like yesterday, huh?"

"Yes and no," he replied. "To tell you the truth, the one who suggested it was Ginny."

"_Ginny? She _suggested this?" he exclaimed, and slumped on the couch in defeat. With those two as partners in crime, he'll be sure to get embarrassed in front of Hermione.

He slapped himself mentally. Why was he so bothered? He was the one wanting to redeem himself in the first place. _This is hardly redeeming, _his mind said. His heart, however, piped, _Yeah, just nag, nag, nag the whole day through as though you don't think of her everyday and every night. Such a hypocrite._

"So? You coming or not?" Blaise's question rattled him into reality.

Without thinking, he stood up and yelled, "Of course I'll go!" After that he ran around his flat, shoving clothes and books and his reading glasses into a bag. He didn't notice anything because he was so excited, so, naturally, he never asked Blaise why he was smirking evilly.


	6. Beach Balls and Ghost Stories

"Yaaaay!" Ginny screamed, waving around her visor hat. "We're here!"

"Ginny!" Hermione shushed. "Would you just lay off the childishness?"

"Here goes Hermione." Ginny got ready to imitate her voice perfectly, and said, "Yes, Ginevra, be a good mature girl because your childhood was enough even with Mouldyshorts running amok, yada, yada, and all that crap."

Hermione winced. "All right, you win. But don't go yelling here – even though it's just a lake surrounded by trees and hills, there are still wild animals."

"Okay, okay." And with that Ginny huffed away to Blaise, who was waving his wand around, making ropes tie themselves and wooden planks construct into two huts.

Hermione, wearing only Capri pants and a body-hugging button down, rolled her eyes as she brought the bags in the center. She noticed a rather large one and reckoned it was Draco's. She pulled it up, and, realizing it was heavy, put it back down again, rolling her shoulders.

"Okay. One more time." She pulled up the bag by the strap and found it lighter than when she first attempted. She looked behind, and when he saw Draco's hair, she screamed.

Everyone in the vicinity looked at her like she'd gone mad.

"Relax," Draco said, taking his heavy bag from Hermione's shoulders. He looked at her with an amused smirk. "It was just me."

"You could've been someone else," Hermione replied grimly, her face already going red with embarrassment. She scooped up a couple of rocks for the fire (they wanted to do it the Muggle way), and those, too, were taken from her. "Oh, come on! At least let me work!"

"No can do," he answered, laying the rocks in a neat circle. Before she could get the wooden planks, he reached for it, and she huffed. "You're a girl, and I'm a boy. I'm supposed to help you. It's a natural instinct."

"Well, you didn't _help _me during the war."

"The war isn't natural, so, unfortunately, that rule doesn't take effect." Leaving a fuming Hermione behind, he went to the bonfire and laid the wood on top of the dried grass.

She kicked the ground in frustration, sending rocks and dust flying everywhere. Why did she even agree to Ginny's invitation? She knew they all weren't close, but, looking at them all, she could easily say that they had been friends for their whole lives. She noticed Ginny, whose smile was rather fixed on her face. She had a fleeting thought of this being an act.

_An act._

Anger boiled inside her. Maybe Ginny had planned this. Blaise helped, probably. There was a big chance that all this was an act…

_An act for what? _She thought so hard she didn't even notice Draco's often glancing in her direction, and Blaise and Ginny's frequent nudge to the ribs. She sulked for an hour under the shadiest tree overlooking the whole lake, and that's when she noticed Ginny and Blaise whispering, their eyes going from her to Draco and back again.

That's when it hit her.

_An act to get me and Draco together._

Merlin, she had to get the cogs in her brain going – it took her one whole hour to solve something to simple.

But back to the problem at hand – she was two hundred percent sure this was a ruse to make them fall in love. What Ginny didn't know was that she didn't need any help – she had done it on her own. Though when, how, and why, she herself didn't know.

All she remembered was that it blossomed from fascination. At that time she had only agreed to teach Draco a bit of the protective spells she had learned to make the Golden Trio hidden from harmful eyes for so long. He had learned it quickly and perfectly – she remembered her noticing he hadn't called her anything insulting – that there came a time when she doubted her feelings of hatred towards the Slytherin.

"Oi! Girl in Capris!" Ginny' scream shook her into reality, and she stared back to where they were going to stay for a night and two days and found two splendid huts opposite each other, a bonfire separating them. Blaise was stoking the fire, Draco was reading a book (with glasses, and that made Hermione giggle a bit), and they both snorted at Ginny's way of calling her.

"What now, girl in visor hat, sleeveless, and shorts?" Hermione retorted.

"Don't miss on the fun! We're going swimming!" Ginny ran into the hut, laughing like a mad scientist. Hermione looked at the boys curiously, as if to ask if they knew anything, and they shook their heads. Apparently, Ginny had some master plan, yet the part where they go swimming was mainly her own idea.

Internally, Hermione groaned. _I wish Harry was here – he'd know how to deal with Ginny._

* * *

><p>The calm mirror of water rippled in the direction of the afternoon breeze. Fish swam around, minding their own business as though nothing could disturb their silent paradise.<p>

Of course they were mistaken, and they only knew their error when Blaise Zabini landed in the water with a giant splash that soaked the grass around the lake.

Blaise's head shot out of the disturbed water, looking at the fish swimming away quickly. "Hey, guys! Come on in! The water's fine! I scared all the fish!"

Draco and Hermione, unbeknownst to each other, had identical faces of disgust as they heard the last part.

Ginny, who didn't have a care in the world at the moment, jumped in right after him and splashed Blaise's bare chest, which looked as though it was disembodied. After a few moments the two had engaged themselves in a "splash fight", and the two still standing outside the water had resolved not to interrupt.

Blaise noticed, however, and he shouted, "Come on! Don't just stand there! Swim, like Voldemort has a snorkel and is loose on the lake with his goal to bite anyone's butt!"

At this, all of them laughed and ran to the lake, the water lapping blissfully at their thighs. Draco dunked Hermione's head in the water, and she resurfaced to a laughing Slytherin, spluttering. She climbed up on his shoulders and dunked his head in the water, cackling evilly at her revenge.

"OI! Want to fight?" Hermione and Draco looked up to see Ginny on Blaise's shoulders, getting ready for a fight. Blaise's face was challenging, and neither Hermione nor Draco ever backed out of a straightforward challenge.

Draco's hands secured Hermione's thighs, and they roared in unison, "BRING IT ON!"

Ginny lunged at Hermione, her hands clasping below her shoulders tightly. Hermione did the same, and the two women fought to dominate and push the other to the water. They were so into the fight that they didn't notice Draco and Blaise's exchange of winks.

Draco, who would do anything to win with Hermione, was carefully kneeling down to the water, one leg extending. "Hang on," he whispered to Hermione, and he twisted, his leg catching Blaise's and tripped him. Ginny and Blaise fell sideways into the water, and, unfortunately, so did Hermione, following because of Ginny's grasp.

After a few seconds they all resurfaced, sputtering water. They all looked evil with those wide grins and they swam to Draco. Hermione got there first, and she slapped his chest soundly, making her hand bounce back and throb.

"You didn't have to slap that hard," Draco said reproachfully, rubbing the spot where she had hit him. There was a bright red print of her hand, and she instantly felt sorry.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She examined his chest and looked at her print. The two were lost in their own world until Ginny cleared her throat.

"I think you guys are too close for friendship, yes?" Draco and Hermione looked at them, and at each other's positions. Hermione had her head on his chest, and he was hugging her close. They drew away quickly, unbeknownst to them that one was as reluctant as the other.

Hermione was thinking about her actions when something hit her hard on the head.

"OW!" she screamed, rubbing the spot. Draco came frantically to her, checking her head. There was a beach ball nearby, and Blaise had his wand transfiguring a pebble into another brightly-colored ball.

Draco growled. "If you want a fight, I'll give you a _war!"_ He summoned the ball to him and threw it as hard as he could. It found its target – it almost ran out of air when it collided with Blaise's face. Ginny scowled.

"OH, IT'S _ON!" _She flicked her wand and a volleyball net appeared in the middle of the lake. She transfigured another pebble into a ball, jumped out of the water, and delivered it with a spike, aiming at Draco's bare (and still-stinging) chest. Hermione went jumped sideways and blocked the ball, sending it flying towards Ginny's end.

"I didn't know Hermione Granger could play volleyball," Draco commented slyly as they prepared for another attack.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "I didn't, either."

Blaise shouted out a war cry, and assaulted the other end of the 'court' with a dozen beach balls. Draco returned six, and Hermione flew the remaining six back. They could clearly see the other players were having a hard time – Ginny was shielding her body with her arms, and Blaise went underwater for a few seconds, making certain the balls stopped falling before he resurfaced.

When he did, he shouted, "That's not fair! You guys are skilled in volleyball! Ginny and I are only novices!"

"Should've thought about that before you sent a ball to my head, Zabini!" Hermione yelled, laughing evilly. Draco threw another ball over the net, and it bounced on Blaise's head.

"That's for attacking a lady first!" he cried, his voice deep and playful. Hermione suddenly felt thankful her legs were under water – her knees were shaking, and she could feel them weakening.

Ginny yelled another war cry, and this time Draco and Hermione were prepared more than ever. They sent back all the beach balls the other pair delivered until a few minutes before sundown, where they quit the game to get the fire ready for the night.

* * *

><p>"We could've won," Ginny repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time. Her fluffy towel was draped around her shoulders, and she pulled them closer to her body when the cool breeze lingered in their area. Her fiery hair was in wet tangles, and it added up to her already grouchy mood.<p>

"I'm going to change," Draco announced after he had dried his hair with his towel, which was now slung carelessly around his neck. He jogged back to his and Blaise's hut, smiling at the memories on that lake.

Hermione, who was already dry and in new clothes, stoked the fire even though it didn't need any more stoking. Blaise brought another batch of dried grass and wooden planks, but instead of putting them into the fire, he put it aside so he could throw some materials when the fire would seem like it was going to die soon.

Ginny stomped to hers and Hermione's hut, muttering darkly about not thinking about magic and wands earlier. She left Hermione and Blaise alone. They sat opposite each other, the fire between them, staring in different directions. They wouldn't want to break the silence, but all the same, it was kind of awkward.

After fifteen minutes of doing _absolutely nothing, _Ginny (thankfully) came out of the hut and joined them. Blaise seemed to have been waiting for her, because his form suddenly changed – his actions became excited and precise.

"Well, ladies," he said, "Would you like to hear a story?"

Hermione didn't answer; she was looking everywhere for Draco, who hadn't come out of his hut yet. She hoped there was nothing wrong.

Ginny squealed. "What kind of story?"

"Horror, of course!" Blaise replied. This got Hermione's attention, and she peered down at him sternly, like a mother.

"No. Ginny has nightmares. I don't want to be wakened in the middle of the night by a scared teenager urging me to go with her to the bathroom."

The redhead beside her scowled. "You didn't have to say the last part, you know." She stood up and went to sit beside Blaise, openly showing her support for horror stories against Hermione's advice.

"Fine," Hermione sniffed, hugging herself for warmth. "Blaise, go on. Tell a story."

"All right." Blaise cleared his throat, and he became a skilled story-teller.

"No one ever knew why the infamous serial killer would roam the city in the morning," he began. "Wouldn't it be safer and less risky if he would wait until nightfall, when people are more vulnerable? But it seems that his pattern should be expected – after all, he was no ordinary serial killer.

"Oh, no – this person specializes in teenagers. He'd go roaming the almost-deserted streets, hunting for rebellious teenagers out of their houses after their curfew. No one ever knew why he had such hatred to youth, but then again, no one will ever know the true story.

"That night, the hunting came early – by six forty-two in the evening the police had found another body. It was a young girl – five-oh-two, slim, waist-length black hair – and, judging from what she was wearing, she was coming home late from school.

"A passerby had spotted her hanging on the tree, guitar strings around her neck, breaking it and delivering instant death. Her chest was opened with something sharp – police suspected a sharp hunting knife – and with the blood pouring out of the body, everyone suspected the killer had taken something.

"They were right, of course. The killer had taken the young girl's heart and replaced it with a black rose."

At this point, Ginny had become a little green. Hermione had to fight the urge to send her a look that plainly said, "I told you so."

"You would've expected the serial killer to be satisfied, but oh no – the girl was too easy. Not even a struggle was put up. The killer roamed another nearby street. This one he liked better – the post lights were all outdated that the odds of finding another body tonight was almost impossible.

"He could hear rich and genuine laughter, and his head turned from where he was – up on a tree. From a distance, he could see three teenagers buying something from a store. Two girls, one boy."

Ginny whimpered, noticing the uncanny resemblance of the situation in the story to their present situation. Although Hermione knew Blaise was telling a faux story, it still sent little shivers down her spine. All of them were so into the story that they didn't see the person lurking at the shadows, looking at them.

"The killer came," Blaise said in a soft, dangerous tone. "Closer and closer to the next victims…"

And as though the person was the killer, he came nearer and nearer to the terrified little group. Somehow, the lonely brunette got his attention, and he streaked towards her back.

"I don't know what the teenagers were doing," Blaise continued, his eyes blazing in the fire. "They were done buying the things they needed, but something about the night wasn't right, and it was that fact that made them stay, making them the easiest prey the killer has had that day.

"Nearer and nearer…"

The person came nearer and nearer.

"He came closer… and closer…" Blaise put on a dramatic pause. Ginny was rocking on her log, chewing her fingernails. "Until finally, one of the girls could smell something from behind her…"

Hermione sniffed. She did smell something; it was familiar, though she couldn't quite place it. She had not come upon that scent in years…

Blaise finalized with, "She smelled blood."

Hermione turned around to see a shadow behind her, holding something very, very sharp.

Her breath had caught in her throat.

From the other side of the bonfire, Ginny screamed.


	7. Second Thoughts of Success

Hermione could see that Ginny's scream bothered the shadow very much. The hand that was not holding the sharp object went to his ear. She could deftly hear Blaise, scuffling on the dirt. She pictured him backing away ever so slowly, eyes locked with whoever was behind her.

Just then, Draco Malfoy emerged from the shadows, scowling. One of his hands was on his ear, and the other was holding two very sharp sticks, which held a grilled fish each.

"Bloody hell, woman," Draco cursed, finally taking off the hand from his ear. "You could've topped a banshee, no problem."

"You nearly scared us to death, you know," Hermione pointed out. "Don't blame it on her – Blaise looked as though he was about to faint."

"Hey!" Blaise protested as he saw an amused grin creeping on Draco's face. "You can't even see me, Hermione!"

"I can feel the tension, Zabini."

Blaise huffed, his arms crossed. Ginny had the same attitude, and they looked as though they were twins. Draco and Hermione laughed themselves senseless, and he sat down beside her, giving one stick to Ginny and Blaise, the other one saving for him and Hermione.

"I was gone for so long because I grilled the fish I collected," he casually explained. "The Muggle way took some time, though…"

Hermione took a bit of fish and smelled it. "Mmm… I haven't had grilled fish in years… My father used to take me fishing when I was eight… I wouldn't handle a rod, though. He was the one doing all the work, and by sundown we would grill them at our backyard. Mum used to be so angry," she recalled with a laugh, "she would complain about replacing oxygen in the house with smoke."

They started eating, Blaise's unfinished story forgotten, and they munched happily in silence. They could practically hear the crickets chirping, but they had to admit, this was a nice change from the noisy city life (not to mention the destructive noises from the war) they had grew up in. It made them think long and hard about the life that had been deprived from them since childhood.

Hermione, whose heart had been beating like crazy, ripped a piece of the grilled fish, and made to feed Draco.

The Slytherin, already too self-conscious, went to pluck the fish from her fingers to eat it without her aid.

"Open your mouth," Hermione demanded, peering at him like a mother.

Draco shook his head. "Never going to happen," he muttered through clenched teeth. He wasn't going to give Hermione a chance.

"Open your mouth," she insisted, this time, in a sweet voice her dentist parents would use on nervous patients when they were going to inject anesthesia to pull out a tooth. She had been practicing it for ages, and tonight was a success.

"Oh, no, no," Draco said, backing away, trying hard not to laugh.

They didn't notice Blaise and Ginny were looking at them like a very exciting TV show until Blaise cleared his throat.

Hermione and Draco looked at Blaise, who said, "You'd better open your mouth, Draco."

Draco shook his head stubbornly. "It's _embarrassing," _he whined.

"Do it," Ginny added, "Or else Hermione will get mad. And a very angry Miss Granger tends to bite noses – and she bites _hard." _

"Besides," Blaise put in, "It's only a friendly gesture. Or is it something else entirely…?"

Draco flushed in the light of the fire, and he very reluctantly opened his mouth a bit. Hermione popped the small amount of fish in.

Ginny clapped her hands and whooped. Blaise went around the fire in a kind of victory dance he had made himself.

Hermione pretended that it _was _just a friendly gesture. She knew she was blushing furiously, and she avoided the light from the fire as much as she could while eating. Draco, who was still blushing, looked up at the stars nervously.

"I think we'd better leave and get going," Ginny said, and she and Blaise stood up from their log, patting their bottoms to rid of dirt and dust.

"Wait, wait," Hermione said, desperately keeping her panic at bay. "Where are you going?"

"Ginny and I had a bet," Blaise elaborated. "If we could get and haul a fish from underwater without rippling the surface."

"Two Galleons," Ginny exclaimed proudly, pulling up to her full height. "Two Galleons will be in my pocket tonight."

"We'll see about that." And the two bickering teenagers went away, hands and faces in a gestural debate.

Hermione, suddenly remembering her amnesia act, scooted closer. Draco scooted away from her. She chased him and he avoided. She slid to him until he was at the edge of the log.

"We're the only ones here, you know," she said, looking into the fire. "You could act like yourself. I won't mind."

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked. Hermione was so close to him she could feel his chest vibrating when he spoke.

"You know. You could call me 'Mudblood' or 'abomination.' I won't mind, honest."

"I changed, Hermione," he sighed. "Maybe you forgot about our last year, too, but I changed. I even went to you for Defense lessons, remember?"

"Uhm… yeah…" Hermione looked up, and saw that Draco had a bit of fish hanging from the corners of his mouth. She meant to brush it away, but Draco caught her wrist an inch before his face.

"What the hell's going on?" she exploded. "Why are you always avoiding me? Here I am, minding my own business, and – _poof! – _You appear into my life and make 'amends' for something I can't remember. Then, after I accept you, you back away!" She stood up and turned her back to him, arms crossed. "Ginny told me we fight every day at Hogwarts," she said, "Fighting for nothing in particular. I went to this trip to see how this friendship works out. I was really happy when I realized we weren't fighting like we were kids again, but I just…" she trailed off, staunching the tears.

Draco stood up, regretting his actions as of late. He so badly wanted to circle his arms on her waist, covering her back, and murmur in her ear about how she looked so beautiful in the light of the fire, but he wasn't sure she would accept that… not yet.

He gently put his hands on her shoulders and made her face him. "I'm sorry," he whispered, placing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I promise I won't avoid you ever again."

She sniffed before she looked up. "Really?"

"Really." He smiled authentically.

She grinned back, picked up the half-eaten fish on a stick, ripped another small piece, and said, "Open."

Draco hesitated. "Hermione, I'm full."

"Oh, come on! You've only had twenty-three little pieces!" she blurted.

Draco laughed. "I'm full, okay?"

Hermione glowered. "Fine. Instead of you eating fish, I'm going to bite your nose."

Draco's eyes widened. "You wouldn't…"

"Try me."

She leaned up, reaching for his nose with her mouth. Draco, who was regretting his promise a little, raised his nose a bit higher as Hermione was about to close her mouth. She went on her tiptoes, chomping menacingly… Draco flicked his face to the side to stall her from biting his nose…

And she accidentally chomped on his lips.

Both were too embarrassed to speak or meet the other in the eyes for an hour and a half.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Ginny woke up with only air as company in her bed. She didn't know that Blaise woke up at the exact same moment, pondering the exact same problem.<p>

No one knew Hermione and Draco were by the lake's edge, soaking their feet in the water, laughing as the fish tickled their soles.

"Why'd you wake me up so early?" Hermione groaned for the third time, yawning. The sun hadn't even risen yet, and they had been steadily awake for an hour. "Why can't it wait until, you know… the sun is up?"

"When the sun is up, so are Ginny and Blaise, and I can't do what I want to if they're around," Draco explained matter-of-factly.

"Well, we haven't done anything."

"Not yet." Draco pointed to the sky, which was now gradually becoming pink. "Look."

* * *

><p>Blaise and Ginny looked at the two forms, silhouetted by the rising sun. Draco had one arm around Hermione's shoulders, and her head was on his shoulder. Their backs were turned to them, but they could easily see their content in each other's company.<p>

"Guess Plan number Two is a success," Blaise whispered fervently. Ginny nodded.

The sun slowly rose, taking its time before it releases its full glory on the world. Draco kissed the top of Hermione's head.

Ginny's eyes widened. How did these two become so close overnight?

"I will miss this once we go home…"Ginny heard Hermione say, a sigh of longing lingering around.

"We can always go camping again," Draco suggested hopefully.

"Hmm… I'd like that," Hermione replied, smiling.

Ginny motioned to Blaise. "I think we'd better go, leave these two lovebirds be."

Blaise nodded, and they left the couple alone, doing Merlin-knows-what. Draco and Hermione returned long after the sun had fully risen, a little breathless and flushed, but content.

Ginny and Blaise, who were cleaning up the remains of last night's bonfire, grinned as they saw the two hastily hide the fact that they were holding hands.

Hermione went to Ginny, and Draco motioned to Blaise. They both whispered about the events that they had missed ("Oh, Ginny, you should've been there! Oh, but if you _were _there, we'd be too embarrassed to do it, so, yeah, thanks for sleeping in!"). They had been oh-so-love struck that they hadn't noticed they had praised and insulted the one they were talking to in one sentence.

Ginny's face twisted when Hermione got to the part where they had kissed, and she could very clearly see that Blaise had mirrored her expression. Blaise could only mouth "THIS IS TORTURE!" and Ginny couldn't do anything but nod solemnly and wince visibly as Hermione described _every single detail. _

_Well, at least the plan is over,_ she thought desperately, praying to Merlin that the two lovebirds would get it over with.


	8. A Bottle of Ketchup

**A/N: _WE'RE STILL IN THE PAST, PEOPLE. :)) i'M JUST GOING TO MAKE SOME CLARIFICATIONS FOR THE ANONYMOUS REVIEWERS._**

**_filipina: No parody. i don't imitate to mock. I just have writer's block and I thought I could borrow a bit of the film's plot. I've been adding some ideas of my own, like the one you're going to read below :))_**

**_Okay, enjoy reading!_**

* * *

><p>Draco happily munched on a cheese muffin, smiling a bit. He had successfully made Hermione fall in love with him, in addition to redeeming himself. <em>Maybe today, <em>he thought as he shifted the bulky package under his arm, _maybe today will be the day she accepts my offer._

He awkwardly knocked on the door, putting the package under one arm and pounding heavily. After a few minutes Hermione appeared, her hair flying as though she ran as fast as she could to open the door, which, he thought, probably was the case. She wrapped her arms around his neck and met his lips eagerly. Draco couldn't help but grin when they broke apart.

"So much for missing me," he joked. Hermione playfully punched him on the shoulder and led him inside. Luckily, Ginny was out with Harry, so they could have some time alone.

"What's with the huge package?" she asked, peering inside. Draco took out some brand new dress robes for himself and a beautiful designer dress for Hermione. The two clothes were identical to the ones they were wearing to the Yule Ball, only larger, as they had grown in size.

He flipped the periwinkle-blue dress to Hermione, and she caught it, an expression of confusion in her face. "Remember the Yule Ball?" he asked.

Hermione nodded hesitantly. "I've heard of it… When Ron is making fun of me with a guy… Krum, I think…"

"Yes." Draco showed her a yellowing piece of _The Daily Prophet. _He had saved the article ever since fourth year, and was pleased he found it after all these years. He pointed to the picture accompanying the front page headline screaming, "_Harry Potter, fourth champion in the Triwizard Tournament!" _and said, "Look, there, beside Potter. That's Viktor Krum, and he fancied you when you were young. I don't know if he still fancies you though – I'd probably beat the hell outta him any day, but anyway – he asked you to be his partner to the Yule Ball, and you agreed."

Hermione shook her head. "I agreed to _him? _He isn't half as good-looking as you!" she blurted.

"I like the sound of that," he remarked, smirking. "Well, yeah, you agreed to him, and for the rest of the night tried to teach him how to say your name. He comes from Durmstrang, and has this thick accent, and kept calling you 'Herm-own-ninny'."

At this, Hermione sniggered. "Seriously? Seriously…"

"Yeah… Well, after you got tired of teaching him the alphabet, you went outside for a bit of fresh air. I followed you, asked you to dance. You refused, of course." Draco sighed and ruffled his hair. "That year was the year I… hexed your teeth to grow out of proportions…"

Hermione winced, but let it slide. "That's okay. The past is past, anyway…" She could feel the lie roll around in her tongue, making her a bit guilty of what she had done in the grocery store. But it was too late to go back now.

"Yeah… Well…" Draco stood up and took the black dress robes. "Change into that. We're going dancing."

* * *

><p>Hermione descended the stairs slowly, pretending it was the marble staircase at Hogwarts. The material that made her dress was soft in her skin, and it smelled heavenly. She had done her hair the way she had twisted it at Bill and Fleur's wedding, and her heart practically exploded when she saw Draco patiently waiting at the bottom of the stairs, smiling as though he was waiting for this for a long time.<p>

As she reached the last step, Draco held out his hand, and she took it in hers. Music was playing softly in the background as though there was an invisible band in the room. She looked at him and giggled.

"What?" he said, alarmed. "What is it?"

"You look like a vicar," she answered, giggling a bit more.

"You're the second one who said that," he replied, twirling her around.

"Who was the first?"

"Potter," he said, and tugged her arm. She came whirling back to him, and they danced slowly to the rhythm, arms around each other. They could practically hear the other's heart beating fast, and for a few minutes they just swayed nervously in silence.

"I wonder what got me declining at that time," Hermione said out loud. Draco looked at her curiously. "You're a great dancer, you know."

He blushed. "Thanks," he muttered. "You are, too. No wonder McLaggen got the hots for you."

"Who?"

"No one. Just another one of those bastards that I'd like to tear limb from limb for attempting to date you," he replied, nuzzling on her shoulder.

"Don't get violent over me," she said hastily. Draco laughed and twirled her again. Her laughter filled the air, a melodious sound that he would've listened to all day. She beamed at him, and he forgot that they were only dancing, and he picked her up by the waist and met her lips gently as the song warbled to an end.

* * *

><p>It was a bit of nasty shock for one Harry Potter, who had decided to come home with Ginny, to see Hermione and Draco still kissing in the middle of the room. He almost toppled over and banged his head on the door if not for Ginny's tight grip on his arm.<p>

"This," she hissed in his ear, "is what I told you about."

Harry couldn't speak. He was just gaping there as though the world had gone mad (_it certainly has_, he was thinking). After a few minutes of no one moving, the two lovers broke apart, flushed and breathless. They had not, however, noticed Harry and Ginny by the door until they ended the kiss, and both looked like guilty teenagers caught by a stern father kissing on the front porch.

"Err… hey, Ginny… Harry…" Hermione acknowledged, stammering a bit.

"Hey Ginny. Hello, Potter," Draco did the same, using Harry's surname. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to be on first name terms with the hero just yet.

"Hey…" Harry said at last in a feeble voice. He cleared his throat and started again. "Err… I'm a little worn out… Uhm… Can I have firewhiskey?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione replied, nodding. "It's on the second cabinet on the east wall of the kitchen."

"Thanks." And with that Harry scampered off to the kitchen. Before the door closed, Draco, Hermione, and Ginny saw him stumble into a chair and bang his head on the table.

"Oh, dear," Ginny said, hearing repetitive banging after a few seconds. She went inside hurriedly, leaving the two alone, embarrassed.

"Sorry about that," Draco murmured, putting her down finally. They sat on the couch and slumped into the throw pillows.

"No, it's alright," Hermione said, unsure to be happy or not. "This way, Harry will know and you get a chance to be civil, yes?"

"I just hope he accepts me," he said, sighing. They could hear shouting inside the kitchen now, Ginny's shrill voice demanding a stubborn Harry to stop his head-banging before he gets a concussion. "I think he still doesn't believe that I changed."

"Don't worry. He'll come round soon."

"You think so?"

"I know so," she said with a tone of finality, and touched his nose lightly with one finger.

By now, the banging had stopped, and no noise escaped from any part of the house. At last, the door to the kitchen opened, and Ginny, pale and flustered, stared at them.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I seriously want to interrupt you guys," she began, "Harry's passed out, and there's…"

Draco and Hermione looked at the wooden table to find a pool of red staining Harry's black hair.

"Yeah…" Ginny said hesitantly. "See, he accidentally banged on the ketchup bottle, and the cap went flying, rebounded on the wall, and hit him on the temple."

Hermione looked at her as though she had lost her mind.

"Sorry," The redhead said sheepishly. "Err… I'll… pay for the ketchup?"

* * *

><p>"You know you've got to be careful on what you bang on," Hermione said sternly at Harry, who was lying on the couch, a compress to his temple. Ginny was off to get another pillow and Draco was dutifully making another compress.<p>

"Hmm… I thought it was 'Be careful on what you wish for'," Harry slurred, smirking a bit. "No wonder I've been confused all my life."

"If you weren't fresh out of a dead faint I would have smacked you upside the head."

"Yippee for injury," he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He then became very serious and whispered, "Hermione, I know you and Draco are dating now, but is this real or not?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione said defensively, crossing her arms and frowning.

"I _mean _that – well – the amnesia was an act… I was just asking if this was part of it – "

"For your information, Harry James Potter, I happen to love Draco very much," she stated with her chin held high. "And he loves me as well. We're happy with each other, and I think I can tell whether our love is true and genuine or not, which it is – true and genuine, I mean. In fact – "

"All right, all right, don't get your knickers in a twist," he interjected, shifting his position to something more comfortable. "What about Ron?"

"What about him?"

"What if he finds out?"

"Why should I care if he finds out?"

"Hermione, you know Ron isn't over you yet – "

"He's definitely showing it, all right. Ron can mind his own business. I did the same when he dated Lavender Brown again. He can at least be civil about it all."

"Hermione, you know Ron isn't the kind to forgive and forget easily. He doesn't have your skills in getting over things – he's got the girl's trait of being overly dramatic instead."

"You take that back, Mr. Potter," Ginny cut in, looking cross as she tossed the fluffy pillow to Harry hard. It missed his glasses by half an inch. "Girls are _not _overly dramatic."

"Okay, I take it back," Harry said hastily, not wanting his girlfriend to throw a tantrum. "But the point is, Hermione, Ron can't control his rage. You know he's got issues when it comes to the impossible happening."

"He'll just have to accept the truth," Draco said, cutting off what Hermione was supposed to say. He replaced Harry's old compress with a new one and wordlessly sat down beside Hermione.

"Thanks, Draco," Harry said, smiling.

"You're welcome… err… Harry," Draco said a bit hesitantly, smiling back nervously. Hermione was grinning from ear to ear, and Ginny couldn't help but notice.

"Okay, why the hell are you smiling like the Mad Hatter in that movie, 'Alice in Wonderland'?" she inquired.

"Because…" Hermione stuttered. "Because… Oh, yes! I finally found the answer to the riddle!"

"You found the answer to Voldemort?" Harry asked, dazed.

Everyone laughed as Harry faced them, a big question mark on his face.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yes, nothing much, I was having trouble making the chapters. I get easily distracted. Now that I'm finished with the game I was playing, I can upload more :))**

**In the meantime...**

**An (invisible) slice of Black Forest cake for one review? xDDD**


	9. Missing Thestral

Ron nearly upset the ink bottle on his desk at the Aurors Department when he stood up; looking at Harry as though he had just married off the Giant Squid and Moaning Myrtle in Gobbledegook.

"She's dating _Malfoy? _For _real?" _he exploded. Harry winced.

"See, this is why we're not telling you things like these all of a sudden," he explained, forcing Ron to sit down and grumble childishly. "You tend to blow it out of proportions."

"I do not blow it out of proportions! It's already disfigured as it is!"

"Okay, okay, whatever, just calm down." Harry allowed his best mate to inhale and exhale deeply for two whole minutes before continuing. "I advise you handle this maturely."

"What are you saying? That I'm immature in handling situations like these?"

"No, that's not what I meant. To put it in other words, you should at least be civil to the two. Hermione was still friendly when you chose Lavender," Harry pointed out.

Ron scoffed. "You remember Hermione saying to us that she attended acting school, right?"

"Well, if she _was _angry inside, she would've confided in me. Mind you, Ron, _she never did_."

"Well, of _course _she wouldn't say anything to you, mate, she would've known you'd tell it to me any way."

"Ron, I've kept secrets from you since first year, most of them Hermione's."

"What? I thought you were my best mate!" Ron accused, hurt in his eyes. "Don't you even trust me a little bit?"

"What are you saying? Of course I trust you! I kept secrets from you because your reactions get a little overdramatic sometimes, but that's not the point – what I'm here for is to advise you to at least acknowledge them when they pass by."

"Sure, sure, if they acknowledge me first."

"Draco _will_ acknowledge you, surely."

"Bloody hell! You're in _first name terms_ now?" Ron sank back down his swivel chair, head in his hands. "What the hell's wrong with the world today… First George's room is quiet and firecracker-free, then Hermione and Malfoy are dating, and you're keeping secrets from me – what the hell's next, Hagrid snogging with Professor Sprout?"

"_That _is so wrong, in _so _many ways," Harry muttered, closing his eyes as though the idea mortally offended him. After three seconds they both laughed so hard that the Aurors in neighboring cubicles had to shut them up.

"Harry, are you _sure _Hermione isn't feigning?" Ron finally asked, wiping a tear from his eye.

"As far as I can tell, that's a _real_-ationship, not a relation-_shit_."

"Okay, okay. I just can't believe it still." Ron shook his head. "There are a billion to one chances of Hermione not fancying Draco Malfoy, and that one chance just had to happen."

"You'll get used to it soon, mate," Harry said encouragingly, patting him on the shoulder. "Look at me – I banged my head on a ketchup bottle when I heard."

"Classic," Ron sniggered.

"Yeah, well, they were reenacting the Yule Ball – Draco bought both of them clothes like when they were in fourth year – and when Ginny and I arrived they were kissing like…" Harry trailed off, hesitant of saying the last part.

"Kissing like?" Ron urged.

"They were kissing like you and Hermione did in the middle of the war," Harry finished in a small voice. "Swaying and that sort of stuff – but without the basilisk fangs on the floor."

"Oh…" was all Ron could say as he sank deeper into his papers. He began writing vigorously, ignoring Harry completely. He, Harry, slipped outside his cubicle and slammed the door. Afterwards, he opened it again and took one of the Lancers' treacle tarts Kronos was offering him, saying, "Mr. Lancer, I want you to check in on Ron every now and then, but do it secretly. Report to me by lunch."

"What will I be looking out for, sir?" Kronos inquired.

"Something suspicious, like muttering darkly, or yelling names at random. If you could get the words he's muttering, the better."

"Yes, sir." Kronos hurried away, crouching behind Ron's cubicle, slowly rising to peer inside. Harry sighed, shook his head, took another tart, and went inside his office again.

* * *

><p>As the minute hand on his wristwatch ticked to twelve, Harry heard knocking on his door.<p>

"Who's there?" he asked, as normal procedure for Aurors. Kronos' head appeared, and Harry let him in, casting some spells so as not to be overheard.

"All right, what's with Ron?" Harry said.

"Well, sir, the words he was muttering was 'I'll show them… I'll show them'," Kronos began. "By ten o'clock, he began making Floo calls to this Slytherin and that Slytherin in your year, sir, asking about some girl."

"What girl?" he demanded.

"I… forgot, sir." Kronos fidgeted. "He was whispering it – hissing, into the fire, really – and I only caught the word once. I remember, however, that the name was akin to fancy."

"A fancy name?" Harry muttered. He could think of a hundred girls with fancy names…

"No, sir," Kronos corrected, "It's – "

The door burst open, and in came Luna Scamander, née Lovegood, her dirty-blond hair in a hasty ponytail, her expression calm, but her actions were another term. Her hands were shaking as she closed the door, and she squeaked when she saw Kronos.

"Oh, hi, Luna," Harry greeted cheerfully, leading her to a chair opposite Kronos. "How're the twins?"

"G-good," she stuttered. "Lorcan has been a bit ecstatic when the gnomes at our house bit him. Lysander was a bit worried, and he took him to his father. Rolf went and cleaned it up in the past hour or so. I don't know what happened."

Harry nodded. He had been one of the special guests at Luna's wedding, and was a favorite 'uncle' of the twins, Lorcan and Lysander. Luna was now a magizoologist, just like her husband, Rolf Scamander.

"So," Harry said, "What's the news?"

"I've went to the center to look at some thestrals," she said," but one had gone. We searched the whole perimeter – nothing. Then one employee said that Ron Weasley went in there and went out, holding something invisible."

"Ron took a thestral?" Harry asked, astonished. "But what would he be doing with that?"

"I don't know, Harry. He was a bit weird when he came in, the employee said. He kept saying a name, though he couldn't quite catch it."

He stood up and paced. What would Ron do with a thestral? Surely nothing dangerous? Thestrals are known for their sense of direction and the special circumstances to see them.

"So it must be that he was going somewhere he hasn't visited before," he muttered. He shook his head and said, "Luna, Kronos, could you please go to Florean Fortescue's at half-past twelve? We need to discuss some things about Ron. Luna, could you gather more information?"

"Of course," Luna replied, making a kind of salute.

"Great, thanks. And Kronos – try to remember the name, all right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I'll meet you at Florean's in -" he looked at his watch. "-twenty-three minutes," Harry said finally. He went to the fireplace, took some Floo Powder, yelled, "Hermione Granger's residence!" and stepped into emerald flames.


	10. Full of Surprises

She was rifling through numerous Muggle photographs and putting them down in envelopes on her desk inside her house.

Out of nowhere, Ginny slammed a hand down the desk, making Hermione jump.

"When do you plan to tell him the truth?" She, Ginny, hissed.

"Tell _who _the truth?" Hermione shot back, completely annoyed that she was interrupted from work.

"Draco! Merlin, Hermione, he doesn't deserve _every single lie _you told him!"

"I know, Ginny, but don't forget he _did _make my life a living hell at Hogwarts – "

"Forget that shit _now, _Hermione! You managed well on your own!"

"I managed because you guys were supporting me!"

"And we'd have still supported you even without Draco around pushing you!"

At this, Hermione stood up, anger flaring. "Ginny, I don't know where this is going, but I do not want any more."

"This conversation isn't going _anywhere! _This whole business ends _here and now." _Ginny stalked off. "I'm going to tell Draco the truth – "

"_Langlock!" _Hermione cried; her wand was out in a flash. Ginny doubled over, one hand clinging to her throat, making choking noises as she couldn't say anything. Hermione went over, and Ginny met her eyes with hate.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered. She motioned to put a hand on Ginny's arm, but she shook it off. "Okay, how about this – you stay quiet, and I lift the spell. You still stay quiet, and I'll be the one to tell Draco. Deal?"

By now, Ginny had doubt in her eyes. She looked everywhere except in Hermione's direction, as though she was asking for support and advice from the coffee machine and the desk lamp. After a few minutes, she seemed to sigh (it was hard to tell since there was no sound) and shook Hermione's hand. The spell was lifted and Ginny found her voice.

"You swear you'd do it?" she asked the instant she found out she could use her voice again without restraint.

"Yes," Hermione replied, "so long as you swear you won't beat me to him in telling the truth."

"All right, I promise. But you should do it soon. _Soon, _Hermione, before you give him another package of bullshit. If he finds out after _that, _I guarantee you; he's going to be devastated."

Hermione flinched in guilt. "Yeah, okay, I'll just have to find some perfect timing," she muttered, sitting back down behind her desk and attempting to forget about their little argument by immersing herself in envelopes and photographs (she was in charge of packaging). She failed, however. It wasn't a good thing to try to ignore Ginny, who could break promises even if she was under the Unbreakable Vow.

"So," Ginny said, sliding over beside Hermione to look at how she was doing. "When are you going to tell him?"

"_Soon!" _Hermione exploded. "Just… Can't you just _wait _until I actually did it? Ginny, you don't know what's happening inside me – it's like the theory the Norse believed – "

"The who?"

"THE NORSE!" Hermione blurted, flailing her arms, "Haven't we watched the movie, 'Thor', two days ago? Sheesh!" She paced around, explaining. "The Norse believed that a wondrous ash-tree, Yggdrasil, supported the universe. Its roots extended through the worlds. It is said that beneath the first root lives Hel, beneath the second the frost-giants, and men beneath the third. It is also said that one of the roots goes to Asgard.

"The Norse believed that over Yggdrasil, and over Asgard, hung the threat of destruction. A serpent and his brood gnawed continually at the root beside Niflheim, Hel's home. Some day they would succeed in killing the tree, and the universe would come crashing down!

"Now, imagine my life with Draco as Yggdrasil. That lie symbolizes the snakes. When you tell it to Draco suddenly, my life will collapse! Ginny, I'm the only one who can do this! Don't even _think _about telling him first, Ginevra Weasley, or I'll swear I'd do anything and _everything_ in my power to destroy you."

"All right, all right, sheesh!" Ginny said. Her hands flew up in the air in the universal sign of surrender. "I won't tell. You didn't have to explain the whole 'Ragnarok' thing, you know," she added, looking sullen. "I know it all."

"Ha! You didn't even understand half of the movie!"

"Well, can you _blame _me? That Muggle playing Thor was perfectly dreamy!"

Hermione snorted, shaking her head. "What is it with you?" she asked her, astonished. "You're dating the most famous hero in the Wizarding World. What more do you want?"

Ginny seemed to rethink her words. "Yeah, you're right. Harry's mine."

"I'm not saying he isn't, Gin."

"Right, right." Ginny obviously wasn't listening or understanding anything she said. She was thinking of something deeply. Hermione noticed this, as Ginny's movements went suddenly robotic.

"What are you thinking?" Hermione said cautiously.

"Harry getting a six pack…" Ginny muttered. After a few moments they burst out laughing.

"Ginny!" Hermione shrieked. "Harry's been thin all his life! It's like the curse for the male Potters, like the hair-sticking-up-every-which-way thing."

"Well, is imagining a Taboo now?" the redhead retorted defensively, but she giggled anyway. "Anyways, what have I got to imagine? Harry's already perfect for me as he is."

"That's right. So don't go hunting for that Muggle actor anymore, because you've got more than that as your official boyfriend. Countless women would want to date Harry – look at Romilda Vane! She still isn't giving up! Do you really want to sacrifice Harry for someone who doesn't even love you back?"

"Of course not!" Ginny roared, standing up. Then she hugged Hermione, saying, "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For everything. For not making me feel regret when I accepted Harry's proposal…"

Hermione stiffened. "WHAT?" she shouted. "Ginevra Molly Weasley, spill all the contents out."

"I'm not barfing – "

Not _that _kind of contents! Tell me _everything_ about Harry's proposal!" Hermione sat down on a chair, excitement radiating from her face. "I swear, you'll only blab to me on what's not important…"

"Okay. Harry invited me to dinner in this Muggle restaurant own the street. It was really fancy – I think it was French, maybe that's why it was so expensive – and the only ones in there where all wearing long gowns and black tuxedos. Naturally we had to be incognito, so we changed our clothes before we went inside. Harry was all gentlemanly, and I could tell he wanted to say something, what with the tense set of shoulders."

"Go on," Hermione urged as Ginny took a deep breath.

"All right, I was just catching up with my breathing. Jeez. So, anyway, we were the last to leave that place, but when the old Muggle couple left, Harry got on his knees and said, 'Ginny, I know we've been through thick and thin a lot of times, and I think tonight's the right time for me to ask you this.' Then he showed me this gorgeous diamond ring, with gold butterflies circling the end!" Ginny squealed, shoving the ring on her finger to Hermione's face.

"Well?' Hermione said. "How did he say it?"

"He never got a chance to say it," Ginny cried happily. "Before he asked, I kissed him and said I'd marry him."

"Aaaaw! That's so cute! Congratulations!"

"Thanks. The restaurant staff was all teary-eyed when Harry and I broke apart. They said congratulations again and again. We _had _to leave that place soon; else we'd be all loony at the wedding and kiss the best man instead."

"Is my hearing crystal clear?" a voice said, drifting from the hall of Hermione's house. After a few seconds, Draco materialized, smirking. "Ginny Weasley will be a Potter soon, correct?"

"Yes!" Both of the girls screamed.

"Well, then, congratulations," he replied, smiling and hugging Hermione. "I would've asked Hermione the same thing about a week ago, but I hesitated at the last minute. I thought maybe Hermione wanted a little more time to think that through."

"You _what?" _Hermione squealed to Draco at the same time Ginny screamed the same thing to Hermione.

"I what?" Draco asked, confused by the sudden change of reactions. He looked meaningfully at Hermione. "You know you'd reject, Hermione, and you know you're reason would be that you're not sure yet. I understand, you know. I know you well."

Hermione blushed. "You know me _too _well," she corrected, smacking him on the shoulder lightly.

Draco's stomach grumbled and he was the one to redden this time. "S-sorry… Didn't get a decent breakfast… Actually, I was going to invite you guys to Florean Fortescue's. The owner's son got new premises after the War destroyed the ancient one. Want to go? Ice cream's on me."

"Well, then, I think a celebration is in order," Hermione said, smirking to Ginny. "And we'd be so hungry as to order the most expensive thing on the menu, as it is on Draco, yes?"

"If you weren't my girlfriend, I would've complained," Draco grumbled.

Just then, the fireplace lit up with brilliant green flames and Harry Potter landed on the carpet, dusting soot and ash from his coat.

"Hey, there," he said casually, smiling. He made a small "Oof!" when Ginny ran and snuggled into his chest. "I take it you've heard about the new Mrs. Potter?"

"Congratulations," Draco and Hermione said, beaming.

"Thanks. Oh, by the way – would you like to go to Florean's?"

"That's where we're heading, coincidentally," Hermione answered. "This is a kind of celebration for the future Ginny Potter."

"And don't worry about the ice cream," Ginny added cheerfully. "Draco's going to buy us the most expensive ice cream in the house."

Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco, who shrugged. "I said the whole thing was on me, but these girls won't let an opportunity pass."

"Of course not," Ginny retorted defensively.

"It's _free ice cream," _Hermione stated in a tone that suggested it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Draco pretended to grimace, took Hermione by the arm and Apparated out of the house.

* * *

><p>They popped into the busy streets of Diagon Alley, just outside number 97, four stores away from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. They looked up at the new and polished sign of "Florean Fortescue's" hanging as Harry and Ginny Apparated beside them.<p>

"You know you could have _said _you were already leaving," Ginny grumbled to Draco.

"Sorry," he said. He entered the establishment and the others followed.

"Ah! Welcome, welcome!" Florean's son greeted from behind the counter jam-packed with people waving their arms.

Another employee greeted them "Good afternoon," and asked, "Table for four?"

All of them nodded, and the employee led them in between chairs and tables being occupied by loud and noisy people to a corner table beside the glass window situated in one wall. The boys took one half of the table, and the girls the other half. Harry, Hermione, and Ginny looked around in confusion.

"Looks like everyone missed Florean's," Ginny muttered as Draco filled the employee in on what they want to eat.

"Of course," Harry said. "Florean's was the only one to make superb ice cream for the masses. Somehow, his son got the right idea and opened up again. The people are truly grateful."

"Isn't old man Florean still alive?" Hermione asked. "Why'd he leave the shop?"

"Trauma. He's still scared. It had been his whole life, that shop. And it was blown to smithereens in a blink of an eye. Surely you'd have the same reaction."

Ginny and Hermione nodded in understanding. Hermione, who was closest to the window, looked out to the busy street filled with people. She caught sight of everything – the shopkeeper at Jigger and Slugs Apothecary arguing with an elderly potioneer about the price of dragon blood ("Twenty-one Sickles a vial! You right in the mind, man?"), the occasional burst of light inside Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, the 'shady folk' blending into the crowd while going down Knockturn Alley.

But what really got her staring was a flash of black hair. Once she saw it, she pressed her nose against the glass, searching everywhere frantically.

"Err… Hermione? Are you okay?" Ginny asked hesitantly, tapping her on the shoulder. "The ice cream's here. C'mon and eat."

"No," she said, shaking her head, her breath creating fug on the glass. She wiped at the portion impatiently.

"Hey," Draco said, putting an arm on her wrist. "What're you looking for?"

Just then, the door to the shop flew open.

"Table for two, please," Kronos Lancer said to a waiting employee politely.

"And may we request that our table be merged with Mr. Potter's over there," Luna Scamander added, pointing over to the small party jammed into the corner, everyone except Harry Potter looking at the visitors with wide eyes.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry if we squeezed you," Luna and Kronos apologized the second they sat down with them.<p>

"Oh, no, no, it's okay," Hermione said quickly, waving away their apologies. "It's great to see more friends."

Harry nudged Luna lightly on the elbow, and she said, "Ah! Sorry. We know who the girl is with the fancy name."

"What are you talking about?" Draco said, starting on his already-melting ice cream.

"It's – "

The door burst open again, and the most unlikely pair they would have ever imagined barged in confidently, holding hands as though it was perfect for them to be having this kind of public display of affection.

"Oh, hey, Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Luna!" Ron Weasley greeted, waving cheerily with his free arm, and ignoring Kronos and Draco completely. "Well, well! It _is _a small world, isn't that right?" He added, smiling at the person beside him.

"Yes, Ron," Pansy Parkinson agreed, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "I think that old bugger Fate had something to do with this." She squeezed Ron's hand gently, as a long-time lover would.

To say that all of the people in the shop were shocked was the poorest understatement of the century.


	11. Fraud

There was no sound in the shop. There were no signs of movement among the sea of people staring and gaping at Ron Weasley and Pansy Parkinson's entwined fingers.

But after two more seconds, all hell broke loose. And it all started from the deepest, darkest corner.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN?" Harry, Ginny, Draco, and Hermione burst out at the same time.

"Now wait just one bloody second," Ginny demanded, standing up and grinning half-heartedly, as though she was making herself believe that all of this was just one bloody nightmare. "Ron. You are my brother."

"Yes… And you are my sister," Ron stated the obvious, confused on where this line was going.

"Are you _sure _you're Ron Bilius Weasley, then?" Ginny asked softly, the grin fading like a match being doused with water.

"Of course I am, Gin! How could you say that?"

Ginny transformed a vase on a nearby table to a rubber (but real-looking) spider with a flick of her wand, caught the toy on one rubber leg, and shoved it to her brother's face.

"Ah!" Ron screamed, swatting it away. "Ginny, what the heck do you think you're _doing?"_

Ginny sauntered off to the crammed table, sat down with a sigh, and said, "It's the real Ron."

"Damn," Draco muttered. "I hoped this was just a nightmare."

"What are you doing here, Ron?" Hermione asked gently, nothing hateful whatsoever in her tone.

"I'm here on my first date with Pansy," he replied, raising one eyebrow.

"Since when were you together?" Harry asked, astounded. If there was a nearby ketchup bottle, he would've passed out again.

Pansy looked at her watch. "Three minutes ago," she answered, smiling.

"When did the courtship begin?" Luna inquired, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Five minutes ago," the happy couple said, grinning like idiots.

Ron looked around. "Well, I think this shop's full. What say you, Pans?"

"Yeah, we'll be back later. Let's go and look at some robes, hmm?" She snuggled into Ron.

"Anything for you, schnookums," Ron replied, rubbing his nose on hers. He raised a hand in farewell and called to the others, "See you, then!"

And they went out of the shop.

Somehow, suddenly, the ice cream didn't taste right anymore.

* * *

><p>Minutes after (or hours, they really couldn't tell), Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Luna Scamander, and Kronos Lancer pushed their half-full bowls of melted ice cream farther from them and walked out the door, with Harry slamming Two Galleons on the table as a tip.<p>

"Just what the _hell _is going on?" Ginny asked everyone as they arrived in the busy streets of Diagon Alley again.

"I remembered the name, sir," Kronos said to Harry. "It was Pansy."

"Yes, yes, good job." Harry didn't even look at his subordinate, for he was on his tiptoes, looking over the crowd for a sign of flaming red hair.

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione shrieked, pulling him down by the arm abruptly. "Explain. _Right now."_

Harry didn't dare argue, and he told them the conversation at the Ministry that morning. It took the best of half an hour, and by the time he was finished, the whole group, except for Luna and Kronos, had faces of shock.

"So he took a thestral to go to Parkinson's flat, eh?" Draco muttered, ruffling his hair in one nervous motion. "Jeez, he could've asked me or Blaise."

"You're not on speaking terms, remember?" Hermione reminded him.

"Oh yeah…"

"I SEE HIM!" Harry yelled as the telltale hair disappeared in a dark alley. The whole group followed, but stopped short.

Harry took out his Invisibility Cloak, saying, "All right. I only have barely enough room for me, Hermione, Draco, and Ginny here. Luna, Kronos – I think you'll be going with a Disillusionment Charm."

"On it," Luna piped, and she tapped Kronos' head sharply with her wand. Instantly, the intern's figure dissolved and he became a temporary human chameleon. Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Draco crouched down under the Cloak.

"Is this the real thing?" Draco asked Harry in a strangled whisper.

"Yeah," the other replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Nothing," he said, rubbing the silvery cloth in between his fingers. "So _this _was why I didn't see you when you were sending the dragon to Weasley's older brother."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Harry and I saw you getting a reprimand from McGonagall." She giggled at the memory.

"How do you remember that?" Draco asked, interested. "I thought you have amnesia?"

Hermione was thankful they were in the dark alley, or else the others would have seen her blushing from her slip-up. "Err… yeah, I have. Err… Ginny told me."

Ginny elbowed Hermione hard, and she emitted a faint squeak.

"O-oh yes! Harry told me some memories, too!" she said faintly, rubbing the spot where Ginny hit her.

"Hermione?" Ginny whispered. "Aren't you going to say something?"

Hermione hit her on the head. "Not now. There are too many people. And we have to follow Ron, remember?"

She chose to ignore Ginny's dark comment about her making up excuses, and led the group to eavesdrop on Ron and Pansy.

* * *

><p>"Ow!" Ron Weasley shouted, rubbing the part where she hit him. "What was that for, banshee?"<p>

"You rubbed your nose _too _hard!" Pansy Parkinson shrieked, feeling her pug-like nose tenderly. "Now it won't be upturned anymore."

Ron snorted disbelievingly, and she whirled around, glaring. "What did you say?"

Technically, I didn't say anything, so I'm safe. Isn't that right, _dear?"_

Pansy's hand smacked across his face, and he cradled his throbbing cheek, screaming, "Bloody hell, woman, just stop it already!" He scowled before continuing. "You think that because it was _my_ idea that I _liked _having you as a faux girlfriend? Because, I tell you, I don't like this _one bit."_

"Whatever," she muttered, crossing her arms. Then, changing the subject, she said, "You think they bought it?"

"Bought it?" he repeated. "Did you see their faces when they saw us? We _owned _them. And it was freaking _hilarious!_"

She smirked. "Well, at least we showed them. Draco should be – "

"Yeah, I know. Malfoy should be yours, because you were the first one to see him, blah blah, yada yada, an all that crap."

"Not in hell, no," Pansy shrieked indignantly. "A Malfoy should be a bachelor until a family betroths someone to him. It's a bit of a tradition."

"Well, ferret boy's the type to break traditions, so you shouldn't be surprised by this."

Pansy grimaced. Then, with another twist in the conversation, she asked, "How often do we have to show them that we're… 'together'?"

Ron wrinkled his nose at the last word. "Maybe once every two or three weeks. We've got schedules, too, you know."

"Oh, good. Now I can finally get that spa week at Bora Bora," she cried blissfully, her eyes going glossy.

_You don't need it, _Ron wanted to say. _No matter how expensive those machines are, they won't do anything to that pug-face. It wouldn't change a thing._

"Oh, by the way," she said suddenly. "When are we going to appear again? So I could ease up my schedule for my dates."

He pursed his lips, barely refraining himself to ask sarcastically if tomorrow's date was either a troll or a vampire. "I haven't tapped their calendars yet. I'll just Floo you."

"Floo in _my _room," she snapped, pulling the hood up her head. "Merlin knows my mother would have a heart attack to see a Weasley in her fireplace looking for her daughter."

Ron watched her go, eye twitching. He admit, he was getting good at keeping his trap shut. But it was bloody _Parkinson, _and it wouldn't be very convincing if they pretended while in reality they were at war. He sighed. Just a few more weeks, he said to himself, and she was going away, and Hermione will be in her place under his arm.

With that consoling thought on his head, he Apparated from the ally with a faint _pop!_

* * *

><p>Under the Invisibility Cloak, Harry and Hermione were barely able to restrain Draco from going after Ron.<p>

"That piece of shit!" he hissed, flailing. Harry grabbed his arm for dear life. "I'll get him! I'll get him!"

"Not now," Hermione said in his ear. "How about you do it later?"

He shook his head. "The sooner the better. How _dare _he even _think _that our relationship is collapsible!"

Ginny elbowed Hermione again, and this time she got the meaning painfully.

"Ah! O-of course not!" Hermione ignored Ginny fuming beside her and continued. "I-I'll talk to him later, all right? I'll be the one to handle this."

Harry intervened. "Oh, no you don't. Hermione, if you go to him, he would think that his plan is _working, _and he'll keep doing it until he makes you break up with Draco – "

"Well _what other choice _do I have?" she spat angrily. "I'm going to _confront _him, Harry! With words! Because I know that you two will get violent! And I don't want a scandal around us, all right?" She glared at each one of them, and they reluctantly nodded. She softened a bit. "Right… Yeah… I'll… best be going, then…"

Draco swept her into a hug, and gave a brief kiss on the forehead. "I wish I could go with you," he whispered.

She patted him on the cheek. "I'll be back," she said, smiling half-heartedly.

And she followed Ron to his flat in Muggle London with another, fainter _pop!_


End file.
